


Away From Home for the Holidays

by RobinsonsWereHere



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Christmas Fluff, Deep Conversations, F/M, Mistletoe, Only One Bed, Post-Season/Series 01, Secret Santa Fic, Snowed In, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28221081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinsonsWereHere/pseuds/RobinsonsWereHere
Summary: Shawn and Juliet get stranded in the Sierra Nevada mountains over the holidays, but Shawn does his best to make it a very merry christmas anyway. Set around season 1.
Relationships: Juliet O'Hara/Shawn Spencer
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20





	Away From Home for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays Adele!! Hope you like this, it took more work than I thought 🥺🥺

“I can’t believe it’s snowing in California.”

“It snows anywhere if you get up high enough,” Shawn points out. He’s less concerned about the weather and more insanely curious about the behavior of his favorite junior detective. He’s never seen Juliet even close to a bad mood, but now she’s got her arms folded over her chest and a scowl on her face as she scuffs her boots in the muddy snow.

“It’s not even snowing!” She throws up her hands. “It’s just… cloudy, and overcast. Like it has been the whole time we’ve been here. Why the hell are planes grounded!?”

Shawn blinks in surprise. “Well, uh, look over there.” He gestures to the wide expanse of sky visible from the overlook they’re standing near.

Juliet looks askance. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“Uh…” Shawn considers the best way to point out the cloud formation he’s noticing. He ends up shuffling behind Juliet, reaching his arm over her shoulder to point. “Just look… right around the horizon… see how the clouds look all dark and thick?” Okay, this was a bad idea. Her hair tickles his face and all he can smell is her shampoo. It’s downright intoxicating, which is not a bad thing, but he has a feeling he should be more on the lookout for an elbow to the ribs. Indeed, Juliet is stiff against him, even as her eyes follow where he’s pointing.

“I can kinda see that,” she mutters. “So?”

“That’s a pretty big storm system moving our way,” Shawn explains. To his embarrassment, his voice has dropped about an octave. “I doubt any planes could get through it even now, and in a few hours it’ll be right on top of us.”

“So, a blizzard.” 

Shawn drops his arm, but Juliet doesn’t move away, so he doesn’t, either. “Yeah, probably. White Christmas!”

She gives him an incredulous look. “We’ve been sleeping in a camper van for the past week!”

“A camper van that Lassie took with him to drive back,” Shawn reminds her.”

Juliet huffs and shakes her head. “God damn Carlton and his insistence on using department transportation.”

“I didn’t realize the SBPD stocked camper vans.”

“It was a modified stakeout van, and you know that, wise guy.”

“Hard to miss the radio equipment. We would’ve been better off in Gus’ Echo.”

Juliet sighs and begins stalking off down the path, her boots crunching in the snow. “Yeah, well, he was smart enough to fly home early, so now it’s just you and me, and we have to get our shit together so we don’t freeze.”

Shawn matches her pace. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you curse, Detective.”

“And I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you use my title in a way that isn’t mocking or teasing.”

“You know me, Jules,” he says, boldly slinging an arm over her shoulders. “The more I tease, the more I care.”

She throws off his arm and gives him a sharp look. “Care less.” But there’s a quirk to her lips that tells him her annoyance is shifting to amusement, which is what he wants to see.

“Look, Jules, just leave this to me,” he tells her. “I can get us into the lodge tonight. Give me… thirty minutes. Is all our stuff still at the campground?”

“Yup.” She rolls her eyes, giving him a look. “You’re gonna make me haul two huge duffel bags while you mess around until the receptionist kicks you out. Chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

“Sarcasm is cute on you,” he says with a wink.

Juliet rolls her eyes again and heads off down a path with a signpost labeled _campground._

\---

Twenty minutes later, Juliet is sweating through her five layers of clothing and still very put out about the weather ruining her holiday plans.

Not that she’d had many, anyway. Moving across the country is not conducive to continuing family traditions.

Still, she would rather be doing almost anything other than lugging camping gear into a rather musty lodge. Snow melts off her boots and her bags onto the sodden floor mat as she pauses in the foyer, scanning the room for Shawn.

She spots him at the reception desk, talking animatedly to a tired-looking Indian man. When he spots her he throws out an arm, beckoning her over. Juliet approaches with more than a little trepidation.

“Here she is!” Shawn exclaims. “I told you, she just had to get the luggage, ‘cause she’s stronger than me. A little snow won’t stop us from enjoying our reservation!”

“I could’ve sworn I just received a call from your secretary cancelling your stay, Mr. Ives,” says the receptionist.

Juliet side-eyes Shawn. _What are you playing at?_

He chuckles and waves a hand. “A snafu with the rental car company. But we found our way here after all!”

“Well…” the woman looks down at her computer screen. “Since you haven’t paid the cancellation fee yet, I suppose we can reset your stay.” She clicks a few keys, and then hands them two room keys. “Room 436. Enjoy your visit.”

“Thanks for the help!” Shawn snatches the keys with a grin, and takes his bag from Juliet. To her surprise, he shifts it to his right hand and threads his left arm through hers. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

Juliet finds herself in a convenient position to throw an elbow into his ribs. _”Sweetheart?”_

“Nicholas and Natalie Ives are married,” he murmurs. “We gotta play the part.”

“Shawn!”

“Call me Nick,” he says. “Or honey, darling, love. Any of that works.”

They reach the elevator, and as the doors close, Juliet yanks her arm free of his and moves to face him, folding her arms across her chest. “Shawn! This is identity theft!”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Nah. They already paid for it! If you think about it, we’re _saving_ them money, ‘cause they won’t have to pay the cancellation fee.”

Juliet huffs, annoyed at the validity of his argument. “I-- this doesn’t feel right!”

“No different than going undercover,” Shawn says with a shrug. “Just pull out the sorority girl persona again. I miss Mary Lou.” He throws a grin over his shoulder at her as the elevator doors open again.

\---

Shawn shoves a few more sticks into the fireplace, making a little bit of a teepee over the newspaper he’d balled up. He’s trying not to think too much about how to build the fire, because then he’ll start thinking about how he learned,and then he’ll get bitter about actually using something Henry taught him. Instead, he glances over his shoulder, carefully watching Juliet.

Right now she’s prodding buttons on the keurig coffee maker, holding a hot chocolate pod in her hand. She’s staring intently at the machine, an adorable wrinkle in her brow. Shawn can’t help but admit that he finds her especially attractive when she’s all focused like this. He could watch her for hours just filling out reports at her desk…

“Shawn!”

He startles. “Huh?”

“I called your name three times,” she sighs with exasperation. “You’re staring. Do you need something?”

“Uh…” Shawn looks down, embarrassed at being caught. He’s cool and smooth, not someone who gets caught staring. “Uh, no. I just… zoned out.”

“Well, zone back in before you light something on fire.” Juliet laughs softly and heads off to find a mug for her cocoa. 

Shawn huffs to himself and turns back to the fireplace, clicking the lighter a few times. The newspaper takes the flame well, and with wood as dry as what’s supplied at this lodge, he barely needs to be good at building a fire for it to stay alight. Satisfied, he sits back on his heels and grins at the blaze.

To his surprise, Juliet returns with not one but two mugs, and pours the hot chocolate accordingly. She picks up a small plastic bag from the minibar and examines it. “Shawn, do you want a marshmallow?”

“Hell yeah!” Shawn jumps up easily and moves closer to inspect the offering. There are two wonderfully jumbo marshmallows in the cellophane bag that Jules is opening now, and she drops one into each mug. 

“Cheers,” she says, offering him one.

Shawn grins and sits down on the leather couch in front of the fireplace. It’s draped with an assortment of fake furs and knitted blankets, and the most comfortable couch he’s sat on in a while. He grins as he takes a sip of cocoa. “Jules, this is really good.”

She laughs. “You know I didn’t do, like, anything.”

“I’m complimenting you.” He scoots closer to her on the couch, so their shoulders are almost touching.

Juliet raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t move away. “There’s other things you can compliment me on. Like, carrying all of our stuff up here? Tackling a criminal into a snowdrift yesterday? Having enough self-restraint to not slap you for getting so touchy?”

“That’s true,” Shawn agrees. “I guess I should think outside the box.” He looks down at her, his eyes darting over her petite form curled up next to him before he meets her gaze and holds it. “I mean, it’s amazing that your hair looks so great after tromping through the woods all week. And I know you don’t like the cold, but it makes your cheeks beautifully rosy.” A little more color comes into her face, and Shawn smirks. “And then there’s your eyes, I’ve never seen that color blue before. You’re crazy awesome all around, Jules.”

Juliet opens and closes her mouth, then looks down. She’s definitely blushing now. “Shawn. Stop messing around.”

He’s never gotten this much of a reaction from her before. Shawn reaches out and gently tips her chin up to face him. “Jules. I’m being absolutely serious.”

She takes a deep breath, and they’re close enough that he hears it shake. A smirk crawls up his lips; he’s not used to getting this much reaction from her. Maybe being stuck here an extra night won’t be so bad after all.

Juliet pulls away, lifting her mug of cocoa between them like a shield. She draws her knees up, too, facing him but nowhere near as close as they had been. Her gaze drifts away from him as she looks out the window.

“I guess you were right about the storm,” she murmurs.

Shawn twists around, surprised to see snow blowing against the window. “Wow. It’s practically a whiteout out there.”

Juliet gives a small smile. “Good thing you built that nice fire. I can feel it from here.”

Shaking his head, Shawn sips his own cocoa. “Isn’t hard at all when the wood is that dry.”

After a long sip of hot chocolate, Juliet stretches out, setting her mug on the table, folding her arms behind her head, and resting her feet in his lap. Shawn grins at the cats playing with christmas ornaments that pattern her fuzzy socks.

“You know, I might have misjudged you, Spencer,” Juliet says. Shawn looks up in surprise. “When we’re at work, you’re always boasting and bragging, making everyone look at you. But here, away from the spotlight… you’re more about paying attention to others. You don’t talk about yourself as much.”

Shawn opens and closes his mouth. She’s right, and that’s the thing. She’s caught him off-guard and seen straight through him. That makes him uncomfortable in a way he’s not sure he can blame entirely on his lie about his gifts. He’s not sure how he should respond.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “Um. You… you have a cocoa mustache.”

Juliet drags her sleeve across her upper lip. Shawn chuckles, relaxing.

_There we go. Moment ruined. Personal conversation avoided._

But somehow, he still feels a knot in his chest.

\---

Juliet is surprised when she looks at the clock to see it’s going on 6pm. It’s been four hours since their flight was canceled, which means she’s spent over three curled up on the couch with Shawn, trading stories about Christmasses past and holiday traditions.

She’d talked endlessly about her family celebrations, but every time she’d asked Shawn about what he was missing this year…

At any rate, her stomach is growling, and keurig cocoa isn’t enough to live on. She hunts down the room service menu and peruses its cheaper options.

“Pineapple pizza, c’mon, Jules,” Shawn says. “And we can get the fondue pot appetizer.”

She’s momentarily struck silent by the mental image of that combination. “You know what?” she finally says. “I think you should take our bags back to the bedroom.”

At first it seems like she’s successfully distracted him, but she’s still deciding on a dipping sauce for the wontons when he returns.

“Hey, uh, Jules?”

She sighs and doesn’t look up. “What, Shawn?”

“There’s uh…” he appears in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s only one bed.”

Juliet’s eyes widen, and she can’t stop herself from blushing a bit. “Wait, what?”

He beckons for her to follow him, and indeed, she’s met with the sight of one bed in the middle of the bedroom. It’s a california king, yes, and covered in blankets that look amazingly cozy, but… one bed. Two of them.

“I could…” Shawn scribes a hand over the back of his neck. “I could, uh, take the couch.”

“That seems--” Juliet clears her throat. “That seems a little unnecessary, don’t you think? I mean… we’ve been camping together all week, anyway. You’ve seen me in my pajamas.”

Shawn nods slowly, but his expression is all but vacant as he stares at her, his jaw dropping a little. “Uh. Sure. If-- if you’re good with that.”

She suddenly feels the need to step a bit away from him. “Yeah. We’re adults. And it won’t be for more than a night, anyway.”

“Besides,” Shawn says, sounding a little more like himself, “how’s Santa gonna sneak down the fireplace to bring presents if I’m sleeping right in front of it?”

Juliet laughs with him, moving to unpack her duffel bag of wrinkled clothes into the dresser. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you still believed in Santa, honestly.”

“Wouldn’t you know it, Gus ruined it for me,” Shawn says. “He set up a huge recording system to catch Santa when we were oh, eleven or twelve. Caught his dad instead. It was funny. I was _so convinced_ Santa was real… ‘cause I figured my dad wouldn’t have ever let me believe in him if he wasn’t.”

She turns away from the dresser to see him sitting on the bed, one of the decorator pillows in his lap and a faraway look in his eyes. “Come on. Ten years old? What parent would purposefully ruin Santa for their kid?”

Shawn laughs darkly. “You haven’t met my dad.”

Something in Juliet’s chest twists, pulling her over to the bed until she’s taken a seat next to Shawn. “He lives in town, right?”

He nods. “He’s the reason I left in the first place.” He turns to look at her. “I grew up here, y’know? Me and Gus. And he was the only thing keeping me sane. I knew I couldn’t stay when he left. I got on my bike and rode off into the sunset… he came back for his parents, because he could get a job here, easy, and he has the kind of family that doesn’t suck the life out of you just by being in the same room. I came back for him. It was his birthday. And then I just happened to solve my first case.”

Juliet nods slowly, keeping eye contact even though the moment feels dangerously intimate. “I’d never left Miami, before coming here,” she offers. “Well, that’s not true. Frank moved us all over Florida, little towns just outside of the big cities. But Mom moved us back as soon as she could. Maybe that’s why… it didn’t suck the life out of me, like you said. Because it was my home, my actual home, even though he tried to take it away from me.” She swallows hard. She hasn’t talked about her family to anyone in Santa Barbara, excluding that late-night stakeout with Carlton they don’t talk about. “Do you… does it still hurt to be back?”

“Not really,” Shawn mumbles, looking away. “It’s… sometimes when I argue with my dad I get frustrated again, and I think about running. But I figure the biggest middle finger I could give him would be to live my life the way I want it, and succeed, right in front of him.”

“I can see that.” Juliet realizes she’s now sitting pressed against Shawn, thanks to the memory foam bed warming up and dipping underneath their weight. Before she can try to move away, Shawn suddenly shifts, angling himself toward her and giving her a quizzical look.

“Hey, the first day we met… I was wrong about the photo of your parents in your purse. Why didn’t you call me out?”

“Because I don’t like to divulge family secrets to complete strangers,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “Why didn’t you get it right… psychic?”

Shawn laughs, but she detects a shade of discomfort in the sound. “Eh, you know, I think that’s your fault. Same reason I didn’t pick up on the cop thing at first.” He leans into her, giving her a saucy grin. “When I’m around a beautiful woman, my senses tend to go a bit haywire.”

Juliet raises an eyebrow, smirking right back. But before she can so much as say a word, there’s a knock at the door. “Room service!”

It’s almost jarring; she gives herself whiplash and Shawn nearly falls off the bed.

Who knew when they got stuck here she would be so drawn in by him?

\---

“Jules, you’re a genius,” Shawn says, tossing some hot cocoa kettle corn into his mouth. “As soon as we get home, Gus and I will turn the Psych office into Kevin McAllister’s house. We’ll replicate every single trap.”

Juliet laughs, the loud sound ringing out, and her head falling against his shoulder. Her hair smells like woodsmoke-- in a good way-- and her skin smells like peppermint. “Shawn, that is--” she relapses into more giggles. “That is _not_ what I said.”

“I must be jumping to conclusions,” he replies with a shrug. “I’m good at that.”

“You certainly are,” she snorts, sucking on a half-finished candy cane. “Okay, but seriously-- no way you could get _every_ trap accurate.”

“I could too.” He smirks at her, leaning a bit to look her in the eye. Their faces are close, their bodies pressed together. “I have a photographic memory, Jules. I’m good at detail work. One more rewatch of Home Alone and I’d have all the information I needed.”

Juliet half-smiles at him, and he hears her breath catch in her throat. Shawn smiles back, and dares to lean forward. He’s not really trying to _get lucky_ get lucky, but if there’s only one bed anyway…

“You’re not really psychic, are you?” she asks, her tone light and almost triumphant, like she’s put the pieces together.

Shawn freezes.

This is not how he’d imagined the night going.

“Uh,” he tries, “what--” his voice has gone up an octave. He clears his throat. “What makes you think that?”

Juliet laughs at him, honest-to-god laughs, proud as the cat that got the canary. “You’re not! Photographic memory, attention to detail, all that. You’re _faking_ it!”

Shawn gulps. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can’t believe you would even accuse me of such a thing.”

_”That’s_ why you were wrong about my parents,” she says, jabbing him in the shoulder. “You were playing a guessing game, filling in the blanks! I’m just a wild card, huh?” she teases with a smirk.

He falters, no excuse rising to his lips. And the smile on her face and the laughter on her lips tells him she’s not exactly mad at him, for lying to her or defrauding the police…

Finally, he sinks back into the couch with a chuckle. “I dunno why you’re just a junior detective,” he murmurs. “I mean, c’mon. I’ve got _Lassie_ fooled, and he’s head detective.”

Juliet laughs, squirming to get comfortable again under all of their blankets. The fire pops and crackles in the fireplace, and she leans back against him, absolutely comfortable resting on his chest, like there’s a new layer of trust between them.

“Jules?” he asks, playing with a golden curl that’s falling over her shoulder. “You won’t… tell anyone, will you?” He would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t in his throat.

She tilts her head to look up at him, smiling softly, her manner serene. “I guess I can keep your secret… it’ll be my Christmas present to you.”

“Thanks,” he whispers. He lifts his arm, glancing at his watch. “Hey, would you look at that.”

She peers at his wrist. “Nine past twelve,” she reads. 

Shawn grins at her. “Merry Christmas, Jules.” And before she can object, he leans forward and kisses her on the cheek.

Juliet squeaks, blushing red. “Shawn,” she protests.

He brushes her hair out of her face. “Sorry.”

She stretches, rising from the couch. “I…” she takes a deep breath. “The mistletoe is over there.” and sure enough, there’s a bundle hanging in the door to the bedroom.

Shawn follows her, her fingers cold against his wrist. “Jules?”

When they’re standing on the threshold, she leans forward and presses a kiss to his lips. It’s nothing too crazy, just a sweet, slow meeting of their mouths. Shawn can’t help but hold her close.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispers, and ducks into the bedroom.

“Jules?” he asks softly, when they’re lying in the huge king bed together.

“Hm?”

“Are we… is this a real thing? Or just… Christmas magic?”

She rolls over to face him, her hand finding his. “Take me to dinner when we get out of here,” she tells him. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

And then she wiggles closer to him, resting her head on his pillow, her hair ticking his chin.

Shawn smiles to himself and wraps his arm around her. _Dinner it is,_ he thinks.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment or kudos, or find me on tumblr at tinseltrixie!


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